It was your first time watching a hockey game live and somehow, everything felt too real. The cold air of the rink, the vibration of the crowd, the sound of skates scraping hard against the ice. You were tucked in the middle row, a little nervous but excited, wearing a Montreal Canadiens jersey with a shy smile and your hair styled just right.

You came alone, because no one else could make it but it didn't bother you. You were here for the experience. You were here… to see him.

Juraj Slafkovský. Number 20. Tall, sharp, fast. You’d seen clips, sure but watching him skate in real life? It was something else. The way he moved on the ice made your breath catch. Like watching a storm glide.

You didn’t think he’d notice you. But he did.

Midway through the second period, after scoring a clean assist, Juraj glanced up toward the crowd. His gaze swept over the chaos of faces, red and blue jerseys blurring together. Until it landed on you sitting alone, cheering softly, eyes wide, holding your drink close.

His gaze held. Just for a second. Then another. You blinked.

Was he… looking at you?

He smirked to himself before skating away, but not before your stomach flipped with nerves. You tried to act cool, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Okay, that didn’t just happen,” you whispered to yourself.

And then The Kiss Cam started panning. Then Fan Cam.

The screen above the rink flickered. And suddenly you were on it.

Your face lit up the Jumbotron. Alone. Blinking. Frozen. People around you started pointing, cheering. A few guys in the back whistled playfully.

And then, Juraj saw it. Saw you on the big screen.

From the bench, he turned his head, looked right up and laughed softly. He nudged one of his teammates. “She's wearing my jersey,” he said. “And she’s beautiful.”